Cherish
by Salazarfalcon
Summary: AU. What do you get when you have one former Fire prince, his doting uncle, and a temperamental Phoenix Horse named Huoshan? More fun than should be legal, apparently. Zuko–centric, with large doses of Iroh, and the Avatar. No pairings.
1. My Fears and My Lies

-1**Cherish**

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Well, here's my first Avatar fic, and it revolves around out favorite Fire Nation prince. It's an AU, and begins before Zuko's super-embarrassing-bitterness-from-hell thing. I'll try to keep him as in-character as possible, but there will be slight OOC, seeing as this is an AU. Before anyone asks, this story will have no romance, so none of the multiple female characters are his 'TWU WUB'. So please don't ask.

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DISCLAIMER: I most definitely do not own this series.

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**Chapter One: My Fears And My Lies**

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The former prince of the Fire Nation ran long, cold fingertips over the angry scar marring his face, then stared intently at his glassy reflection in a chunk in the cave wall. Zuko shivered and spat a breath of fire into his hands to warm them.

Who would have thought that Iroh would actually know something practical, Zuko mused idly to himself, then leaned back, before automatically stiffening up as his body touched the frosted wall. Schooling his features, Zuko set his jaw and refused to flinch away, settling himself down obstinately.

He gazed at his reflection again, and in the substitute mirror, a furious golden eye flashed, and Zuko suddenly dug his hands into the wall, using his flame to wrench out a chunk of ice, only to hurl it as hard as he could into the other side of the cave, where it shattered, sending freezing splinters in a beautiful spray.

Breathing heavily, the fire prince exhaled, then shut his eyes.

And he dreamed.

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"Please, Uncle Iroh!" thirteen year-old Zuko pleaded, gazing up at his mentor with wide, golden eyes. "Please?"

"Absolutely not." Iroh told him sternly. "Not until you're older." Zuko scowled, disappointed.

"But Uncle, you don't really have a big part in it, but you get to go. But I'm going to be king one day, and I don't? That's not fair." He couldn't help it, he sulked. "Not fair at all." At his word, Iroh surveyed his defiant nephew, running sharp, war-trained eyes over him.

The boy would be good leader in the future, that much was certain. He was nothing like his father, his mother had taken care of that. For a second, just a second, an image of the eleven year-old Azula flashed through his mind, and unable to control it, his face twisted into a soft sneer. Not like his prodigy of a sister. Not at all. She was FAR too much like her father for Iroh's liking. Zuko continued to watch him, and suddenly his expression went subdued, almost unnaturally submissive.

"It's alright. I understand." he murmured, plainly upset. "I'm not old enough."

Iroh suddenly held up his hand, decision made.

"Come, get into a proper attire. I'll allow you to come, this once. But for your own sake, stay silent. Commander Zhao will be there, and the last thing you want is _his_ attention. Understood?"

In a flash, the boy's face had lit up, and he immediately straightened.

"I understand!"

"Good. Meet me here in fifteen minutes, and for the love of all things holy, look decent, boy." Iroh told him, folding his arms to his chest, and Zuko obeyed, sprinting eagerly to his room. As he watched his nephew's retreating back, the man tilted his head.

_Just don't let this be the wrong choice. And with everything you have, Zuko, don't screw up or call attention to yourself._

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The large group of Firebenders sat in a circle at an equally large table, solemn, all wearing perpetual scowls. Iroh sat next to the nobodies, the lower ranks that just happened to make it, and next to him sat his young nephew, clad in his most domineering, yet simplistic garments he owned; black pants that never seems to gather soot or dust, a sleeveless, high-collared tunic colored blood red. Covering that was a long, black and golden cloak left halfway open, and of course, there were the customary knee-high boots, perfectly polished. On Zuko's left breast lay the royal crest of his family, two swords crossed with a flame and dragon intertwined in the center.

Iroh nodded appreciatively to himself. The boy knew an occasion when he saw one.

Commander Zhao was on his feet, and apart from his voice, the room was silent. Utterly silent, save that booming, knowledgeable, charismatic voice echoing. Zuko was as quiet as all the others, hands folded on his lap, leaning forward, listening, expression intent. However, despite how blank his expression was, Iroh could see tumultuous thoughts spinning and spinning through the boy's head, could see the anger in his eyes, could see his lips thinning with every word the general spoke, could see his fingers twining tensely around each other in his lap, a sign of fury in the boy since he was a young child.

Iroh prayed that he keep his fragile control.

"It's simple," Zhao said imperiously, surveying the men, allowing his eyes to linger on the infuriated Zuko a bit longer than necessary, "We need all of the talented we can get, correct? We need to save them. All we do is place a group of trainees in a 'strategic' position, the enemy goes for them, and then we will have them! After all, there are plenty, and it doesn't matter, as long as they don't have the talent for bending, as we do."

"So you suggest that we use group, lets say…. Forty-one, as bait?"

"Yes, your highness." Zhao went humble, bowing his head.

"All trainees?"

"Yes, your highness. A truly worthless group as far as things are concerned-"

A soft,. Nearly-silent gasp, and Zuko's face drained of color, the prince completely stricken.

_Cool it, Zuko, calm yourself._ Iroh prayed, watching the flush grow in the prince's cheeks again, watching sparks dance between his fingertips. _I know you're angry, but for your own sake, keep still._ Using a physical motion to lay the point home, Iroh reached a hand under the table, and took one of Zuko's hands, giving it a light shake, unseen to the others.

A plain order.

_Calm down, you would gain nothing from this but senseless and pointless pain if you were to speak now,. Remain silent, as you promised me._

Zuko's eyes widened, but he didn't shift his gaze, but shook his head lightly from side-to-side unobtrusively, a silent communication to his uncle.

_For you and for myself and for my promise, I will be still. Do not worry._

A message that was taken with the ease of one who knew him well, Iroh released Zuko's hand. The boy stared holes into the table for the rest of the meeting, unable to look anyone in the face. How on Earth could he? He couldn't accept this. Wouldn't accept this.

Would never accept this.

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Still shaking, Zuko paced about his room, limbs still shivering hours after it was all said and done.

Two-hundred people in a training group.

Two-hundred people dead.

Two-hundred people were going to die, not because of a crime, or honorably in a glorious fight.

Two-hundred people were going to die, be used as bait, for what seemed a petty, simple attack. Two-hundred people, dead, because they couldn't firebend. Not because they weren't talented. Because they couldn't firebend.

Zuko refused to accept this.

He had done as advised by his uncle and silenced every angry retort about to spew from his lips, restrained every blow his hands wished to inflict upon that pompous, inconsiderate, cruel commander, and disguised every furious movement he made as confusion and intensity.

Just like him. Prince Zuko. 'Lucky to be born' Zuko. Weak Zuko.

He couldn't stand it.

Unable to control himself at last, he hurled a glass….something, at the wall, and felt an unnatural glee as he watched it break. Just pretend that that was Zhao's face. Now there was a thought worth remembering. Almost immediately, he felt embarrassment and irritation with himself.

Still a child.

Throwing things at walls? What the hell kind of future king did that?

Abruptly, he glanced rapidly about it room, as if making sure no one else was there, making sure that no one else heard the crash. He was sure that no one had. Besides, he thought to himself, the only person who WOULD care would have been his mother. And she was gone.

However…..

There would always be a reprimand if someone informed his father.

_Zuzu was acting childish again, maybe you should put him through extra training……. Oh, hell, your highness, he's useless as it is, why not just kill him? Stick him in with group forty-four, let him do something of purpose. Or better yet--_

Zuko shook the familiar voices out of his head. Azula. Zhao. Quite possibly the two people he hated most. EVER. The one 'born lucky', and the favored commander. For all he cared, they could go suck eggs, and he didn't mean figuratively. He shook his head.

Childish.

"So childish."

He wasn't aware that he had said this aloud, and therefore jolted when a voice met his ears.

"Slightly."

Zuko whirled, but sighed in relief to see only his uncle standing in his bedroom doorway.

"Oh. It's only you. Come in." the boy accepted, and Iroh entered, silently shutting the door. "I'm sorry. I almost lost it in there. And now I'm closed up in here, whining to myself-"

He was cut off.

"Nephew, I'm proud of you." Iroh said suddenly, stepping forward to wrap a hand around the boy's arm. "Sit, we have much to talk about." The prince obeyed, planting himself on his bed. "You did me proud, boy, controlling yourself in there. I know your temper, and I know full well how angry you were, and I understand how you're feeling."

"So why don't you DO something about it?" Zuko snapped angrily, turning his head away to stare out the window. Iroh shook his head.

"If I had any control over what my brother did, don't you think I would have exercised it?"

The boy couldn't answer.

"Commander Zhao is cold-hearted, power-hungry, and unbelievably cruel. He will stop at nothing to get what he wants. And even you, Zuko, cannot be blind enough to see that he would not hesitate to hurt you badly, and cover it up with excuses of training, and insubordination. You know this much."

"I do." Zuko muttered, frustrated with himself. "I hate this."

"And like it or not, you are thirteen. You have no control, despite what you or I would like. Your sister is not fit to rule over so much as a blade of grass, and where she may have been eventually, she is spoiled and about as power-hungry as Zhao and your father himself." Iroh continued, staring intently into his nephew's golden eyes. "And unfortunately, powerful enough to back it up as well. But eventually, she will burn out, like a fire set too strong, too quickly. You, however, will progress slowly, but when you reach your peak, you will stay there, unable to be put out."

"You and your strange metaphors." Zuko said simply. "I don't understand a lot of what you say, and that may be because I am a child, as you also say. But I might, if you keep explaining it to me." Suddenly, an impulsive, altogether rather stupid idea began flitting around in his head. "Uncle?"

"Yes?"

"About me progressing slower than Azula, what might speed up the process?"

Iroh raised an eyebrow, unsure of where this was going.

"Well, getting away from people purposefully trying to squash you down. Discovering your faults and talents on your own. Getting into and out of your own messes."

Zuko flashed a childish grin.

"Good, glad you agree with me!"

"Agree to what? I agree with nothing!"

Practically bouncing on his heels, Zuko grabbed a bag out of his closet, and shoved some practical and not-so-practical clothing in it, and some random other things, until Iroh got the idea.

"No. Absolutely not.." he ordered. "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND, ZUKO?" The boy turned around and blinked.

"What's the problem? You said it yourself, didn't you? Besides, it's not like it would be forever, right?"

"Zuko, that's not the point-!"

"Of course it is, you said it yourself. " the boy declared, stopping his almost manic pacing back and forth.

"I said no such thing!"

"Of course you did!" Zuko rolled his eyes. "Get away from squashing people, make my own messes, discover talents, yadda yadda yadda. I'll come back in a year or so just like you said!"

"You totally and completely missed my point-"

In all of Zuko's thirteen rather subdued years of living, Iroh had rarely seen him so excited and worked up over something that wasn't fueled by anger, fear, or indignation, and therefore, had rarely seen him so blatantly ignore him.

"Does it matter?"

"OF COURSE IT MATTERS!" Of course, at this point, Iroh also knew that he could yell at that boy until he was blue in the face, and it would have very little, if no effect in the slightest. He had always been like that, and probably nothing but a violent smack back into reality, like certain and immediate death, would bring him back into a logical state of mind.

"And if I left, I wouldn't see Azula for a loooooong time! That would be so awesome-"

"Zuko, focus." Iroh told him sternly, and was rather surprised when Zuko obeyed him, dropping immediately out of cloud eight-and-a-half after hearing him. "Why are you even considering this? King Ozai will never see things the way that you do, so why are you bothering?"

The boy stared at the floor, then the wall, then the ceiling, before he allowed his gaze to rest on his uncle.

"Several reasons, really. The ones you mentioned. The ones I can't say." Idly, the prince played with a lock of hair dangling on his shoulder from his topknot, pensive. "This may be home, but I every second living here. These are my family, but I hate every second being around them. I want to get away from Azula and her ego the size of her head, and I want to get away from my father and HIS ego the size of his head, and I want to learn things other than combat. And…." he trailed off.

"What?"

"It's stupid, but I keep hoping that maybe if I leave and come back stronger, maybe Father might have some respect, if not love, for me. Even if that caring isn't for me, but my powers, it's okay. At least then, he'd love something in me."

Iroh blinked, seeing quite clearly the sincerity in Zuko's voice, and felt something twist up inside his chest. The extent of that sincerity almost hurt.

"I will not relent, I believe that you are being hasty, and I don't know how the king will react to this, with joy or anger. I think that this is a stupid idea." Zuko's face fell, but Iroh continued. "However, having known you from when you were very small, I also know that while I am capable of physically deterring you, I cannot mentally. I can see it in your eyes, you have set your heart upon this madness, and thus, I cannot stop you. I am your teacher, your mentor, your uncle, but I am not your master." Closing his eyes, Iroh rubbed at his face with a hand.

Zuko continued to watch him intently, until their eyes met once again.

Iroh sighed.

"Well, if you're going, for gods sake, put something practical in there!" Feigning anger, Iroh reached into the boy's bag and pulled out a scarf. "Pointless, boy, pointless! Are you a Firebender or not?" Zuko flushed red, embarrassed.

_How mortifying for him,_ Iroh thought to himself, terribly amused. _I should do it more often._

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_Embarrassment._

_Useless._

_Weak._

_Zuzu, what is your purpose for living at all? Just get over it, you'll never be as good as me._

_You are nothing, and you will always be nothing. Now get out of my way, boy._

_Have no illusions, Zuko. Your sister was born lucky. You, on the other hand, were lucky to be born. Make no mistake. Get out of my way._

_Always be brave, and never give up._

_Your sister will burn out…._

_I am proud of you----_

Zuko woke up with a start, as a tree very conveniently dropped all of its leaves on his head. Gold eyes wide, he glanced around the vicinity, startled.

Oh, that's right.

Brushing off the thick layer of leaves, Zuko sat up, yawned, and stretched, before once again surveying his surroundings. It had been late, very late, when he had finally stopped walking the night before, and passed out completely against the tree trunk, and now, the prince found himself in a thick forest.

It had been about a week since his great escape. A week of walking, hunting, training, and sleeping under the stars. Vaguely, Zuko mused on how his father had reacted upon finding him gone, before squashing down that obnoxious, rebellious little thought.

Now was not the time for familial depression.

Now was the time for breakfast.

Truth be told, it took him a while to get the hang of the whole hunting thing, and he still didn't have it quite down yet. He wasn't that great. Scratch that. He may as well just face it, he pretty much sucked hard when it came to hunting, no doubt about it. However, eventually he bagged two very fat, rather stupid nesting birds and an egg, and it wasn't long before he had an impressive breakfast.

Or rather, more impressive than the one yesterday, which consisted, in its entirety, of one very ill-tempered, bad-tasting turtle. Zuko didn't blame it one bit. On the other hand, he DID blame it for all of the gastro-intestinal distress it had caused him after he ate it, and he swore vengeance, along with several expletives in his native tongue.

Iroh's packing tips had been incredibly helpful.

Nothing he wore now would remind anyone of the Fire Nation in him. No one he met would suspect his origins. Currently, the boy wore a sleeveless, dusty red tunic and a pair of brown pants held around his hips by a belt, and of course, the boots. He had never felt so inconspicuous, and he loved it.

He allowed a stream of flame to escape his fingers to spark up his fire. If he came in contact with people, he knew he'd have to be more careful in the future. However, Zuko knew that he's have to gain better control over his Firebending, and soon.

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"Iroh."

"Yes, King Ozai?" The man responded, expressionless. Zuko must be far away by now, the boy was fast as lightning when he needed to be, and about as fierce as well. Iroh had no doubt that the prince was far away by now.

"Where is Zuko?" Ozai asked. "I sent someone to his room for him, and I was told that he was not there. Then I sent you. You are his teacher. WHERE IS HE?"

"He is not here." Iroh answered, voice cold and crisp. "Prince Zuko is nowhere in the castle." He was unprepared for his father to lunge to his feet, emitting a bellowing roar of rage, nor to fling a full glass of water across the room, where it shattered against the wall. Looked like Zuko had something in common with his father after all.

"HE'S GONE? THAT IDIOT IS GONE?" Ozai boomed, absolutely furious. Suddenly, lividly, the king whirled and turned to Iroh. "Fine. He wants out, fine. Commander Zhao, make it known that Zuko is to be captured and tried for treach-"

"Don't you even dare!" Iroh interrupted, looking every bit the general he had been, "Zuko is no traitor, even you, in all of your blindness can see it! I have kept quiet for his sake, but should you threaten him, no longer! See reason!"

"Useless fool." Ozai snarled. "You do nothing but coddle your precious Zuko, and sit on your fat ass and drink tea all day! The best thing that ever happened to that boy was Zhao's training, and he squandered it! My brother you may be, but I am king and you are not, and that is as good of a reason for you to obey me without question."

Commander Zhao was smirking, and more than anything, Iroh wanted to slap it right off of his smarmy face.

"You have two choices." Ozai concluded, "You will go and find my worthless son and kill him for his betrayal, and in turn be welcomed back, or face exile with him." The king blinked. "I can see it in your face. You could never kill Zuko, could you? Even if you hated him, or if your life was in danger." He snorted. "You fool."

Iroh remained silent.

"You have made your choice, then. You have thirty minutes to gather everything dear to you, and then my guards will kill you on sight after that time period. Am I understood?"

"Perfectly." Iroh snapped, sparks of fire jumping from his fingertips. "May we never meet again, barbarian." He smirked with sarcastic satisfaction to see that he could still embarrass his brother with that horrible, childhood reminder of a game they used to play, and he turned to leave.

"If you see Zuko, tell him this." Ozai ordered, the last order from him that Iroh would ever obey. "Tell him that if I ever get my hands on him, he will face an immediate _Agni Kai. _Get out of my sight."

The exiled turned, unable to resist one last, parting jab.

"Despite his exile, his disappearance, my wayward nephew still has more honor than the two of you together."

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"Hikari. Hikari! HIKARI!"

"What is it?" the boy responded, staring dazedly out the window, staring at a pair of puppies running about in the grass. He wished he was out there, and not in here--

"You are so totally burning that."

Zuko jolted immediately.

"WHAT?" he exclaimed, making a mad, manic dash to the oven, the door he threw open, and wrenched out the pan. Clouds of smoke billowed out, and inwardly, he groaned. Not again.

"Hikari, you are a gigantic idiot." the other boy told him, shaking his head. Zuko turned and scowled at him. Not that he could really deny the comment, which was why, verbally, he didn't respond. Slightly worried, the thirteen year-old reached out a hand covered in an oven mitt and turned the pan upside-down to tip out of the contents, revealing a blackened loaf of bread. Once again, Zuko groaned. Blinking, his companion peered over his shoulder, curious. "Funny, you're great when you're paying attention, but the second you turn your eyes away, poof! Everything goes to hell."

Blankly, Zuko poked it, trying not to remember that one time, where he had gotten impatient and used a bit of Firebending when no one was looking to make the bread bake faster. He had almost blown up the bakery, and immediately decided that all practice was to be done in the safety cover of the forest, and even then, only at night. Mostly because, first of all, he wouldn't be caught, but also because Zuko figured that if he became strong at night, then he would be doubly competent during the daytime, when his power was at a peak.

"Where's that smoke coming from?" a voice suddenly interrupted from the hallway, and a man entered, wearing a green apron. His confusion instantly cleared when he saw the two boys standing in the kitchen, the Fire Nation prince wearing a sheepish expression and covered in char from the blackened bread. "Not again."

"Sorry, Matsu- master. Sorry." Zuko muttered, staring at the floor, a tint of red brushing his cheeks. "I screwed up again."

"Not all your fault, Hikari." the man responded, walking over. "We'll just have to make a new one. It's a hassle, but not a big deal. And you, Mori. I thought that you were going to help out today, not loiter around. There's work to do, boy."

"Sorry, Dad." Mori said, reaching over to help his father get out ingredients. Frustrated, Zuko began over again.

It wasn't like he could really complain, of course.

It was actually his good luck (bad luck?) that Matsu and Mori had found him one day, after failing once again in his efforts to catch something other than turtles, and Matsu had offered him shelter and care in exchange for working in his bakery. The two lived in a nearby village on the outskirts of the Earth Kingdom, and overall, it was most definitely better than living on his own. Mori, two years older than he, knew a great deal about baking, but also found it just as amusing to watch Zuko screw up after relaying wrong instructions, while Matsu found the boy affectionately frustrating. Zuko may have been unknowingly exiled and rather clueless as to how to really take care of himself, but he was still incredibly prideful, short-tempered, and impatient, which led to blow-ups and the occasional rant and temper tantrum in the forest.

Matsu shook his head. That boy seriously needed to learn some humility, but he had to admit, he was getting better. Mostly due to routine scoldings and being made to correctly re-do everything he screwed up when he screwed up, he was definitely getting better. On the other hand, Mori didn't help with the boy's temper, usually succeeding only in riling Zuko further into a fury. Or as he was known, Hikari.

And he watched.

Watched Zuko brush his ebony hair away from his face with calloused hands used to labor and training. Watched Zuko joke around with Mori, only to get teased. Watched Zuko space out, and watched his golden eyes see a different world before abruptly returning to reality.

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"Kch!" Zuko hissed, getting to his feet, but didn't risk looking at his arm, where he knew that he would be bleeding. Bleeding was nothing. Bleeding meant pain. Resisting pain meant strength. That was one of the few things that both his father and his uncle had drilled into him, and he was glad to have the knowledge. A tall, darkly bronzed man stood in front of him, in an offensive pose.

"Good, Hikari. Even if you cannot Bend, that doesn't matter!" he called out, watching the boy get back into his defensive stance, ready again. "You can always defend yourself, even if your opponent is stronger than you, and if you can get up and ignore it, then-" he trailed off as thick vines wrenched themselves from the Earth itself and lashed out at the prince, who dodged, allowing the training rituals from his home take him over. "-all the better!"

Dodge.

Dodge.

Attack.

Block.

A wrong move, and he flew.

Before hitting the ground, Zuko skidded to his feet and got back into stance. His teacher stared at him, startled at the ferocity he saw in the boy's eyes. Ferocity shouldn't be there, this was no battle! This was training, learning and teaching on both sides, there was no reason for such instinctual anger and the undertone of fear to be seen in his face. The man straightened, relaxing.

"Hikari, enough."

"Kozue-?"

"You've had enough." he said. "When you get so that I can see you feeling that I'm really going to hurt you, other than usual bruises and scrapes, then you've had enough for the day." Zuko wanted, more than anything to ask how Kozue knew this, but kept his mouth shut. It was embarrassing to be found out, but would be more embarrassing to acknowlege that the man was right, and to admit to himself that he was losing his outward stoicism. "Go cool off and shower, we're finished for the day."

"Yes, sir." Zuko murmured. Respect was to be shown for someone who was stronger. That was way it was, and that was the way he had always learned. Someone was stronger if they overpowered you, and someone was stronger if they could shock you. That was what he had always been taught, and only in those circumstances, because that was how things were in the Fire Nation. Ferocious and terrifying. But he was slowly beginning to realize that respect was also to be shown to those who understood you, and to those who could make you feel.

Kozue turned to go, but thought better of it for a second and turned back, stopping his student.

"Hikari."

"Yes?"

"You're good, Hikari, almost too good for your age, and don't you even dare think that I can't tell that you've been trained, and well. But training is to prepare and to better oneself, not to hurt, humiliate, or bully. I honestly think that you've had the latter kind."

And he was right. Zhao always got a terrible amount of pleasure out of their 'training', especially when Zuko went flying.

"Don't get cocky, you have a long way to go. But you're remarkably versatile, and I can see you already adapting to fighting against me, learning my patterns and adapting yourself against them, and you need to see that you're improving. And not just in fighting."

Zuko thought on that sentence for hours, since stepping into the icy bathing stream and relaxing his muscles, but unable to stop moving. Going in stiff would keep his muscles stiff, and he would pay for it next lesson if that happened. He thought on it through dinner, through his own training late that night in the forest, and on the walk back. And when he climbed into bed, he realized that he knew what Kozue had been saying, and he knew that he had been right. He was the only person in this environment with the sort of wild, antagonistic instincts that he had, and he saw plainly that no one else underwent the sort of things that he had. Kozue's understanding with him had proven that.

He also realized that he really, REALLY missed his uncle.

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End Chapter

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Well, this is the first chapter of my Avatar: The Last Airbender fanfic. Hope you enjoyed it! Please read and review, and if you liked it, please look out for the next chapter!


	2. Hating Convention, Hating Pretension

**Cherish**

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**Chapter Two: Hating Convention, Hating Pretension**

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DISCLAIMER: Nope!

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This chapter was written to **La Vie Boheme**, from **RENT.**

_To days of inspiration  
Playing hooky, making  
Something out of nothing  
The need to express-  
To communicate,  
To going against the grain,  
Going insane, going mad  
To loving tension, no pension  
To more than one dimension,  
To starving for attention,  
Hating convention, hating pretension  
Not to mention of course,  
Hating dear old Mom and Dad_  
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A short, stocky, unassuming figure walked down the narrow, twining dirt road. He carried nothing but a brown, leather satchel over his shoulder, and though he looked out of shape, he showed no signs of fatigue, no sweat marks, and no heavy breathing.

Iroh had taken his own advice and dressed in mild browns and sturdy, leather boots, and had packed lightly.

He had to find Zuko.

Iroh had left his queue on a rock outside the palace, a last-ditch effort of being obnoxious that had a deeper meaning that most wouldn't understand. A severing of family ties, and a severing of unity. The very worst insult that a member of the Fire Nation could ever give.

He had to find Zuko.

"Hey, mister, are you alright?" Iroh looked up and ahead on the path to see a teenage boy standing there, his arms crossed, a concerned expression on his face. Wearing shades of green all over, save for his boots, the boy was very obviously a citizen of the Earth Kingdom, with light brown hair cropped short around his ears and eyes the same color.

"I'm fine." Iroh responded, and he was.

"There's no civilization in the direction you've come from-"

"Do you think that I have no stamina, boy?" Iroh inquired, allowing a touch of sarcasm into his voice, and the boy shrunk back, startled.

"N-no, of course not!" he exclaimed, shaking his head furiously, and Iroh actually found himself amused.

_Such normalcy, Zuko could have been like that- stop it. _He told himself. _Past is past. _The boy looked up.

"Hey mister, we've got plenty of room, wanna stay with us awhile? My village is right over there, and, I dunno…." He seemed uncomfortable, but Iroh knew better than to refuse his offer. He DID need a break, and maybe these people would know something about Zuko.

"Alright then, but not for long. I'm looking for someone."

"Well, maybe we can help! By the way, my name's Mori." The boy said suddenly, and then stared at the ground. "You come from far away, and people from my village stay fairly close, so you're welcome to stay in exchange for news. Okay, Mr…..?"

Iroh blinked. His name was known, and it was not a good idea to go blurting it around, especially if he accidentally mentioned his wayward nephew.

"I am Hakumei. Simply Hakumei."

---------------

The door burst open, and Zuko glanced up in irritation from where he stood at the counter, making attempts to extract an incredibly stubborn loaf of bread from a pan. He had been able to keep his attention this time, and therefore it was perfect, just stuck. Mori nearly bounced in, and began taking out plates, cups, breads, and different types of pastries out of the cabinet.

"We have a visitor, and he's here!"

"You really don't get out much, do you?" Zuko asked blandly, while Mori seemed to be in such a tizzy that he didn't recognize the jab.

"Hikari, come on, slice that! You've got to talk to this guy, he has all sorts of things with him, awesome things!" Rolling his eyes, as the boy fled again, water and fruit juice in the cups, Zuko shook his head, before he began slicing the bread.

_Damnit,_ he thought to himself, _I actually get this perfect and I have to share it. Figures._ He knew he was grumbling and being immature, but he assumed that it was just a side-effect of living in a village where they had a visitor MAYBE every couple of years. If that.

"Hikari!" Matsu, this time. "Come on, boy, and meet our guest! Move it!"

"Alright, alright." Zuko called back, slightly exasperated, grabbing a plate for his bread, then exiting the kitchen to enter the living room. He almost dropped it.

Sitting on the couch across from Mori and Matsu was a very satisfied-looking Iroh, munching on a pastry and apparently in the middle of a grand and truly terrifying tale of what he had had for lunch that day. Iroh glanced up.

He dropped his empty glass.

"Uncle?" Zuko stammered, shocked, before shaking himself out of his stupor. "Uncle!" To which Iroh instantly got up and engulfed the boy in a hug, so relieved to find him safe, sound, and above all, somewhat happy. He was shocked when, in front of everyone, Zuko lowered his guard enough to openly accept the affection. Matsu tilted his head.

"Hikari, you and Hakumei know each other?"

Zuko and Iroh glanced at each other, confirming the aliases, before nodding.

"So, Hikari is actually the one you've been looking for?" Mori asked, and Iroh nodded. "How totally weird! Hikari's been here for a few months now, and this the first time we've had two newcomers so close to one another."

"So, my nephew has been living here with the two of you?" Iroh asked, refusing to let go of one very embarrassed prince, and Matsu nodded.

"Yes, he has." The man answered, "He's been working here, as well, and getting training by one of our Benders." Iroh frowned slightly, and Zuko squirmed, and Matsu immediately continued. "Even if Hikari can't bend, there's still much that he can learn in technique that doesn't require the ability, and he's doing it by his free will, no one's forcing him or anything."

"And you're enjoying it?" Iroh asked his nephew, and Zuko nodded, hearing more implied in that simple question that what was vocalized. Already he was beginning to get back what he had lost in the absence of other Firebenders, his attitude, his posture, and his mentality,

"Yes, I am."

Suddenly, the prince realized that something was missing about his uncle. Something very important about him was missing, and he raked him over with his gold gaze, until it finally hit him. Zuko stared at the floor, head reeling. What was going on? What on Earth had happened, that had caused his uncle to do…..that?

All was silent for a bit, until he spoke up again.

"Matsu?" The 'master' was purposefully left off, "Mori? Could we talk alone, please?"

Perhaps because of the notes of desperation in Zuko's voice, Matsu nodded.

"Alright." he murmured, snagging Mori by the back of his shirt and leaving the room.

-------------

"Uncle, what happened?" Zuko immediately gasped, upon the two's leaving, and Iroh smiled sadly, hand going to the place where his queue would have been.

"Language switch, **my prince**" The man switched to the language of the Water Benders. The last thing he wanted to do was to have others hear this, and the next worse thing would be to have them hear them speaking in their native tongue. The language of the Fire Nation was a beautiful one, but rough, depending on how it was spoken. The very nature of Firebending was one of emotion and passion, and the language portrayed it as such, but it was startling to hear for the first time. Zuko nodded.

"**Okay. What happened? What could make you-?"**

"**Zuko, I want to tell you how your father reacted."**

The boy felt a cold, sinking feeling of dread begin to well up in his stomach. Something had gone very, very wrong.

"**Yes?"**

"**He was….angry, to say the least. In a fit of rage, he almost told Zhao to find you and try you for treachery." **Iroh said quietly, and Zuko went ashen. _The exact opposite of what he had in mind._ He could see Zuko's world fall apart around him. **"But I convinced him otherwise."**

"**Convinced….how?"**

"**He gave me two options. Kill you or go into exile, where you have been as of three months and two weeks ago. You know what I chose. The Firelord also told me to tell you this: If he gets his hands on you or sees you, ever, he will subject you to an _Agni Kai_."** The former general said quietly, and reached out a hand to rest it on the former prince's shoulder. He could feel Zuko shaking, whether in fear, rage, or hurt, or a combination of the three, he didn't know. He squeezed, and leaned forward slightly, watching his nephew's features, and saw something change.

Where had formerly been a slightly jaded but still overall decent outlook on life had suddenly morphed into pure, unadulterated heartbreak, and Zuko turned his back, his face in his hands. Iroh could see him shake.

"**You didn't have to…have to sacrifice for me. You didn't. You have nothing now, why did you do it? I'm not worth that."** Zuko asked frantically, voice muffled, and Iroh leaned over, pulling the boy to him.

**Don't you dare tell me that I have nothing, boy, or I'll slap you silly."** Iroh snapped, **"I have you, and that's more than enough."**

Zuko let out a strangled sob and buried his face in Iroh's chest, clenching his fists in the fabric of his shirt, completely undone. Iroh sat back with a sigh, letting his nephew cry himself out, something he knew he needed, stroking his back and his hair, just like he had done when he was a young child, after a session with Zhao.

"**But-"**

"**No buts."** Iroh insisted, wrapping an arm around Zuko's waist to help him to his feet. **"What you need now is rest."**

"**But I need to-"**

"**No, you don't. Not right now. No more thinking, no more protesting, no more beating yourself up over this, at least for tonight. Now, where's your room?"** Iroh slid open the door, only to come face-to-face with a concerned Matsu and an equally concerned Mori, both of whom were staring, worried, at Zuko, who hid his face from them to attempt to wipe away his tears.

_I cannot be weak, not here. Not now._

He didn't remember Iroh taking off his boots or Matsu helping him into his bed, and he didn't care about the silver shining in from his window that he usually loved, and he didn't want to think or feel anymore. Not now.

------------------

"What happened?" Matsu asked immediately after his own son went to bed. He and Iroh were sitting at one of the low tables, both of them sipping on some hot tea. Iroh shook his head.

"Family matters. It is none of your concern-"

"Of course it is!" Matsu exclaimed, indignant. "That boy has lived here since we found him, three months ago. He's lived here, slept here, eaten here, and trained here. He's friends with my son, and I think of him as a member of this family, if a temperamental, prideful member of this family. I think I have at least SOME privilege to some information." Matsu was annoyed, and it was obvious, and Iroh changed the subject.

"He will say when he feels the need. But, different topic. How is he? Personality-wise, I mean. Is he pretty good with people, does he have friends, does anyone want to kill him?"

"Like I said, he's got a nasty temper and he still needs a few more lessons in humility, but he's a good kid. As said earlier, he's been working with one of our most talented Benders, Kozue. They get along well, I suppose, Kozue likes him, I know that much. But other than Mori, Hikari doesn't really talk to any of the other kids, they seem to make him uncomfortable."

"That sounds like my nephew…" Iroh commented, allowing a smile to curl his lips. There wasn't a sound from upstairs at all. "And how has his training been going?"

"It's interesting, Kozue came up to talk to me about that the other day, actually. It's interesting that you brought it up." The younger man mused, remembering. "He was really worried about him. Apparently, Hikari had been taking things far too seriously that day, and Kozue was worried about what kind of previous training he had. Having a teacher that didn't fit him, or an abusive one. He definitely mentioned fear, though, and genuine defense, like he was truly going to hurt him, and was curious. I, of course, had no idea what to tell him. A little light on the subject, Hakumei?"

"This Kozue was certainly correct, I'm afraid." Iroh responded with a shake of his head. "I trained Hikari in the beginning, but his father didn't like the way he was progressing, and thought that he should be able to skip basics to get to more advanced skills, and basically just tossed him into a different teacher's lap. The new one was a bully who didn't so much teach as beat him black and blue. Finally, Hikari's father gave up, thinking him a failure, and gave him back to me, thank god." He took a sip of tea, and they remained silent, before Matsu got to his feet.

"Here, I'll show you where you can sleep."

------------------

Iroh wasn't surprised the next morning, when he woke up and checked in on his nephew, that Zuko was awake already. The boy had always been an early riser, almost disgustingly energetic in the mornings, if not particularly cheerful, and Iroh was actually pleased that he was following his normal routine. However, he WAS surprised to walk into the kitchen to come face-to-face with Zuko sitting at the kitchen table, munching on a piece of bread and sipping at a glass of milk. Golden eyes looked up.

"Good morning, uncle." His voice was quieter than usual, more subdued, "How did you sleep?"

"Fine." Iroh responded quietly, "Did you already finish your training today?"

"Yes."

"**Good, then as soon as we can, we need to leave."** the man said abruptly, and Zuko jolted.

"So soon? Why?" His voice was indignant and confused, and Iroh shook his head. He had hoped it would be easier.

"**We are still too close to the Firelord's domain. I fear that we are far too close, and we need to get out. I'm sorry about this, Prince Zuko."**

Zuko twitched.

"**First of all, what's with the sudden respect? You hardly ever call me prince, please don't start now."** Golden eyes stared at the table. "Also, I fear that I might be slipping. This environment isn't becoming, I'm becoming far too lax. Too sloppy. Too comfortable. I'm not meant to stay, I know that, and I've gotten too attached." Zuko shook his head. **"When would you suggest?"**

"**As soon as possible."** Iroh answered, and Zuko got to his feet, lacing his fingers together in agitation.

"Well, if we have to leave, we have to leave. I'm not happy about it, but if we have to, I'd rather not talk to Mori and Matsu about it. I always feel guilty." Walking over to a drawer, the former prince pulled out a piece of paper, a pot of ink, and a brush, and began to scrawl out a letter. "It's half-assed-"

"Language, boy, swearing shows bad breeding."

"Sorry, uncle." Zuko murmured, finishing, before dashing quickly up the stairs to grab his things, then coming back down, looking rather depressed. Frowning, he tugged on the collar of his black, sleeveless shirt. "Okay. If we're going, lets go."

And without further fanfare, they did.

And from behind the sliding door, Matsu sighed, and walked into the kitchen, fingering the hastily written letter in his hands.

-----------------

_Matsu and Mori (you know I don't like using dear),_

_I'm sorry that this is abrupt, but I have to go. I can't tell you why, and I'm sorry. I can't tell you where, and I'm sorry. But if you go up to my room, go into the top drawer of my dresser and look inside, and that might give you a hint about me and uncle. I don't want you to hate me._

_Hikari_

--------------

………………

"Uncle! Where in the bloody world ARE you?" Zuko shouted a year later, plunging through the brush of a faraway forest, sending leaves flying everywhere.

"Over here, Zuko. No need to shout or bellow or roar like your father." Iroh's voice was, as usual, mild and mellow, and Zuko was infuriated to see him lounging among the low-slinging branches of a tree, having set up a makeshift hammock between them. His golden eyes flashed.

"You said you'd train with me today!"

"And I did." Iroh responded mildly.

"Shoving tea down my throat is NOT my idea of training." the boy complained, irritated, and Iroh sat up, amused.

"Oh? Is tolerance and learning to face your dislikes not a form of training? You've hated nearly all forms of tea since you were a child, especially lemon, which is why I decided to drink that with breakfast. You should learn to put up with things you don't like, instead of blasting at them blindly or avoiding them."

Zuko remained silent and sulked.

"Besides, insolent nephew, you wore me out yesterday, and if I need a break, you need a break-"

"NO I DON'T." The boy growled, "That's the last thing I need. What I need is to gets stronger, strong enough to go back, grab Zhao by his slimy throat, and squeeze-squeeze-bang-bang-boom-boom until he's finished!"

"Ah, you have so much youthful energy," Iroh mused, "To be young again."

"Argh, you are so frustrating!" Zuko ranted, pacing back and forth, "Do you simply want me to stay like this?"

"No," his uncle commented, sitting up, "What I want is for you realize your own limits, and to learn to pace yourself, and accept that you cannot learn everything in a single week. Silly nephew." He smiled benignly, making Zuko want nothing more than to smack him. Frustrated, the boy ran his hands through his hair that, when let loose, swayed down around his middle back, but was usually tied up in a ponytail.

He was surprised that his hair had grown back so quickly.

"Here," Iroh said, getting up and walking around the former prince, before grabbing his shoulder and steering him over to the hammock. "You said you wanted to learn more than combat alone, correct? Well, you've learned how to fight, how to cook, how to clean, how to socialize (somewhat), how to hunt, basically, how to work. Now you need to learn how to play."

"PLAY? Are you out of your mind?"

However, the boy grouchily allowed himself to be pushed into the hammock, and there he lay, stiff as a stick, glaring furiously at his uncle.

"This is incredibly ridiculous."

"But it's comfortably ridiculous." Iroh corrected him, "And if you stay there for two hours, and possibly learn how to take naps as well, then I'll teach you how to breath fire."

Zuko sulked again, but nevertheless obeyed. He had been wanting to learn breath techniques for quite a while, and if laying still would get Iroh to teach him, then so be it. But it was still hard. Frowning solemnly, he closed his eyes, only to hear a snort, and then a snicker. He opened them and glared at Iroh's back, where the man was laughing into his hands.

"Oh, shut up." Zuko snapped, flushing red.

"Oh, but, you're s-so snort so cute! Going all serious over a nap, just like when you were a kid…"

"UNCLE! How humiliating….."

---------------

He felt a furry something on his face.

He felt deep, warm breaths on his hair.

He felt a large shadow hovering over him.

Golden eyes opened…..

And the always dignified Prince Zuko fell out the hammock, twisting himself up completely.

A large animal that looked almost like a horse was standing over him, and Zuko stared up at it, wide-eyed. Like a horse, almost. It was dusty silver all over with a dainty body structure, but its hooves were large, like those of a draft horse, and feathered, almost too big for it's delicate body. Its ears were larger and slightly more rounded with black at the tips. Simplistic, black and golden patterns covered its back, meant to blend in, and it must have been around six feet tall at the shoulder, much taller than Zuko himself. Large, fluttery wings of the deepest grey were attached to its withers, and there was a row of golden feathers running down its back. With large, green eyes, it stared at him, as if wondering why exactly he had just flailed out of his current position, and why he was sitting on the ground like that.

It growled and ruffled its wings.

Zuko wasn't sure if it was carnivorous or not, but it was better to be safe than sorry, and he got to his feet, and began edging away.

It followed him.

"Uncle?" he asked, shakily, not breaking eye contact with the animal, "Could here for a second?" Iroh obliged in seconds, saw the scene, and immediately burst into almost hysterical laughter. "Shut up, uncle, and give me hand over here! I think…..it wants to eat me." This remark only caused Iroh to laugh harder.

"Zuko, it doesn't want to eat you!"

"It totally wants to eat me- hey, stop. Stop right there, you." He continued to back away as the animal continued to approach him, and stiffened when it snuffled his chest with its muzzle. "Quit it!" It growled again. "Uncle, DO something, for the love of anything you give a damn about at the moment!" Zuko protested, and Iroh rolled his eyes, stepping forward and gently guided the animal away from his nephew.

For about two seconds.

Two seconds later, it was back, growling and snuffling and basically freaking Zuko out even more than he already was.

"Zuko, calm down, it's not going to eat you. She's a , for lack better words, a phoenix horse, judging by the markings, they're very common around here, you know. That's not growling, she's purring." Iroh told him, amused. The boy scowled.

"I don't care what it is, I want it to GO AWAY."

"Don't worry, she's perfectly harmless-"

"Harmless my royal butt- yikes!" Zuko was cut off as the animal reached her head down to lip at a piece of his ponytail, and the boy sulked. _How embarrassing._ "Go away, you. Go back where you came from, GO." he told her, and shoved, irritated, at her chest (that was, annoyingly, above his head) to try and make her move. She didn't budge, only nudged at his face, until finally, Zuko gave up. "You can deal with it, uncle." he sighed, and flopped back onto the hammock, only to have the animal follow him and hover. He could hear Iroh cackling in the background, and he twitched. "Alright, you thing. Do what you want, just leave me alone, unless you're going to help me get stronger."

"Zuko, she's an animal, she can't-"

The horse snorted and blew a streak of fire behind her straight at the old man, and Zuko sat up, eyes very wide.

"Or….maybe she can."

------------

"Hiya! Let's go!" Zuko called out gleefully, gripping handfuls of Huôshan's mane as the huge, fluttery grey wings spread out beneath him, and they were soaring over nothing but ocean. Iroh's arms tightened around the prince's waist, and the older man groaned. Flying was definitely not his forte, and he was slowly beginning to regret encouraging Zuko to keep his new shadow, against his will or not. And Huôshan was as much a volcano as her name proclaimed, she was full of energy and enthusiasm, and fire. Zuko couldn't get over it. Not only fast in the air, the mare was fast on her feet as well, and it had been more than once that Iroh woke up to his nephew gone, only to have him return several hours later, panting and out of breath, but satisfied.

She was smart, she seemed to instinctively know when Zuko wanted her to help out with his techniques (she was particularly adapt at breathing fire, as Iroh soon learned) but she also seemed to know when he needed to stop and rest, for at some points, she would immediately cease whatever she had been doing and shove Zuko to the ground with her muzzle and nearly sit on him if he tried to get up.

Just as she had that first day.

It hadn't been long before she had integrated herself into their little group of two, turning them into a group of three, and while she preferred Zuko (the rather unwilling) she was also content to fly Iroh as well, wherever they happened to be going. She was certainly big enough, towering over even the tallest of people.

She was the one who had taught stubborn Prince Zuko how to play.

Temporarily forgetting dignity and decorum, Zuko shrieked at the top of his lungs as Huôshan took a sudden descent, rapidly ascending again, before repeating her little stunt.

"Where are we going, uncle?" the boy shouted over the noise, "You're the mastermind behind this little quest of ours!"

"Tell Huôshan to land, and then we'll talk. I hate this flying thing." Iroh grumbled, and Zuko began cackling at his irritation. Payback was quite the bitch, wasn't it? However, he obliged, parking Huôshan in the tall branches of a tree resembling a pine, and slid off with the ease of one used to doing it. Iroh dismounted soon after, or rather, flailed off, thankfully landing on his feet. Grinning with exhilaration, Zuko leaned up against the trunk, feeding Huôshan a piece of leftover fruit from breakfast. She was an omnivore, but preferred fruits and grasses over anything else, though she also had a fondness for fish.

"So, where are we going?"

"Well, since you're familiar with the techniques of the Earthbenders, I thought that you might be interested in learning a bit about Waterbending, so you might want to start layering up. Or at least get more into practice of heating yourself. Arrogant nephew, I saw you skipping out yesterday when you were supposed to be meditating." Iroh scolded, mildly, but scolded nevertheless, and Zuko rolled his eyes.

"I don't get anywhere meditating, I think it's one of the most useless things ever." the boy griped, shaking his head. "It's not going to help me- Ouch!"

His uncle had actually hit him! It had only been a light crack on the head, but still!

"Don't start. Offense is the not the only form of combat, and it isn't all that will help you. It is what is emphasized most, but it is by no means the only way to fight. Meditation teaches concentration and focus, and if you truly understood that, you wouldn't be complaining! You are still undisciplined and you lack self-control, so I suggest that you listen to those who know more than you do, otherwise you are no better than the father who banished you!"

That struck a nerve, and Zuko looked stunned for several seconds, more shocked and hurt by that than the fact that Iroh had hit him, before turning his back, resting his hands on the roughened bark of the tree, pressing his forehead to it. His breath was shaky as he exhaled deeply, and Huôshan lowered her head to snuffle at the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry." the boy muttered. "I guess I really AM pretty much useless, huh? You shouldn't have to be out here with me."

"Prince Zuko….."

"Don't. I promise, I'll try harder. I swear I will." the fourteen year-old murmured, "Just don't give up on me. Not yet, not now." He didn't protest as Iroh reached forward and took his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

"I have no intention of giving up on you." the old man said firmly, resolutely, "The fact that you can bring yourself to admit the things you lack says enough." There were other things that he could have said, but Zuko could figure them out for himself, and slowly, he drew his nephew away from the tree, and gestured for him to mount back up. "Now, back up on the flying nausea-machine, and we'll get going. Fast as Husôhan is, it'll still take awhile."

He made it look almost disgustingly easy to hop back up onto Huôshan's back, and as Zuko gave Iroh a hand up as well, Huôshan took his lead and took flying leap off out of the tree, huge wings spreading out to ride the thermals.

Iroh couldn't help but be pleased that, though he was feeling awful, in the air, Zuko almost become someone else, free, and laughing just as he had when he was a child.

------------

"Thank god for firebending…." Zuko muttered, rubbing his arms, rather grumpy. Long sleeves or not, the South Pole was NOT his favorite place to be, and he had even accepted the tea Iroh had offered that morning, if only for the warmth.

It didn't matter, tea was still disgusting.

Grumpy, the fifteen year-old stared out of the cave, watching the snow blow about outside, and blew small breaths of fire into his cupped, then transferred some of the warmth to Huôshan, who was huddled up in the corner next to him, the feathers on her wings and on her back fluffed out to conserve heat. She whuffed at him and he pulled out a cold piece of apple that he had in his pocket, biting off half for himself and giving the other half to Huôshan, who nickered at him and nibbled delicately at it.

Iroh was out, and had been out for several hours, hunting for whatever-the-hell lived out in the freezing Hades called the South, while Zuko was told to practice meditating, which was what he had been doing until a particularly nasty gust of wind blew in. Suddenly, over the noise of the wind and the snow, there was a crash, and a figure stumbled in. Shaking off the snow, Iroh set down two large, white rabbits on the cave floor.

"Well, don't just stand there, nephew. Restart the fire."

Zuko obeyed, sending a small spark from his palm into the pile of wood, setting it aflame.

"Now, keep it low, no use wasting what we have." Iroh told him, and Zuko nodded, concentrating. It wasn't enough to START fires, one had to know how to control those fires, otherwise they would get out of control and cause senseless damage. That was the purpose of the meditations, but it didn't make them any more interesting. While Zuko controlled the fire, Iroh put the rabbits on spits and stuck them up over the fire, watching Zuko keep it together and on a smooth, red heat. Good, he was learning.

Once they were thoroughly cooked, Iroh took them off, while Zuko absorbed the flame back into his palm, shivering with pleasure as he abruptly heated then shivered for a different reason, this time because of the cold. Huôshan nuzzled at him, and Zuko cut her off several strips, which she chomped down. Watching her, Zuko shuddered slightly.

It was more than a bit unnerving, to see what should (visibly) be a herbivore eating meat, and with great gusto as well. At least she was neat about it.

"So, uncle, are we moving tomorrow, or are we staying? I know you mentioned that we would soon, but you never said when."

"Well, I think we'll give it another two weeks." Iroh responded. "It should warm up slightly by then, and then we'll go to sea." Zuko raised a brow.

"In what?"

"A boat."

"What boat?"

"The boat that I'm teaching you to build."

"…….damnit."

--------------

End Chapter 2

---------------


	3. Decorated Emergency

**Cherish**

**------------**

**Chapter Three: Decorated Emergency**

**-----------**

Disclaimer: What have I said the other two chapters? No. I don't own.

-----------

------------

Zuko was not having a good day. Actually, he wasn't having a good week. Or month. Or was it the last six months?

It was bad enough that it had taken him five months to learn how to build a boat to Iroh's standards (teaching patience and dedication, which Zuko thought was his uncle's way of telling him to get his butt in gear and work), then to get out into the ocean only to realize the reason why most Firebenders stayed on land.

He was completely and violently seasick the first week, and spent much of his time either curled up in bed in a fetal position until Iroh dragged him out, where he would stand for hours at the side of the boat, viciously ill. To his utter disgust, the only thing that remotely helped was his worst enemy in the world, third to Zhao and his father: the hated lemon tea.

He would drink it, but he wouldn't like it.

"Come on, boy. Hop to." Zuko glanced up and glared from where he had parked himself, dangling over the railing every time the boat so much as lurched. How dare Iroh be so at home on the water, damnit. He had no problems, after all, he was a former general, he HAD to be able to handle water, but damnit, this just wasn't cool.

Huôshan nickered after him as he dragged himself away from the railing, only to be smote down onto his back by a blast of fire.

"What the hell?" he snarled, staggering to his feet, only to be smacked down again.

"Get up, nephew! The only way to get past that seasickness is to do something else, instead of thinking about it!" Iroh called to him, pooling flame around his fists, "So move it! Unless, of course, you're a little boy who needs a nap- whoa! No need to get violent." He warned, dodging a blast from Zuko, who was fuming.

"Just WHO'S a little boy?" Zuko retorted, kicking out, sending a swirl of flame in Iroh's direction, aiming to startle, and succeeding. His uncle blinked at him.

"When did you learn that?"

"A while ago." the boy responded, leaping forward and engaging himself in a mild spar with Iroh. "Didn't you -whack- notice?" Zuko grinned when he landed a light hit, and quickly backed off when a spear of flame came his way.

"Watch yourself," Iroh warned, "Don't get cocky, boy, or I might just knock you flat on your face."

Zuko didn't respond, for his attention had been drawn to the large, purple-black clouds filling the sky, and he couldn't turn his eyes away. Those could either mean terrible rain or terrible snow, but either way, it meant terrible weather. Iroh followed his gaze, and shook his head.

"I was hoping that we wouldn't run into this, but what happens, happens." The man extended his arm toward a mountain range of icebergs and flows, "We'll head toward there and take shelter. I think we could handle it, but I don't want to take any chances."

"But what about the boat?"

"We'll have to leave it outside, but that's why I had you build a canoe, isn't it? A canoe is less bulky and more maneuverable, and holds plenty as well."

Zuko had to admit, Iroh had a point, but he nevertheless watched silently, reluctant, as the man began steering the boat toward the island of ice.

---------------

Navigating their way through the icy caves wasn't easy, sometimes the canoe was a strange fit and they had to break through the thinner sheets just to continue rowing. However, it was a good thing that they had gotten in when they did, for they had only just entered the caves when waves began to roll up into the air, wind had begun to whoosh and howl, and icy rain began to fall. Zuko didn't have to look back to know that the boat he has spent five months learning how to build was totally and completely gone, and he had no time to ponder it, for Iroh had already begun rowing, and he picked up an oar to help as well, staring, slightly apprehensive, at the walls and ceiling of ice.

_If that were to fall…-no! Don't even think about it_, he told himself stubbornly. _If I don't think about it, I can't worry about it._ Deciding to actually follow his own advice, Zuko turned his attention to where they were going. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to their path at all, all he knew was that they were going deeper and deeper into the cave, and he didn't like it one bit.

Huôshan snorted from above, impatient and antsy with being so confined, and flapped her wings to stay airborne, swishing her tail.

Silence was not good. Silence usually signified impending doom, or something along that strand of logic, which was bad.

Always bad.

"Hey, uncle?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have any idea of where we happen to be going?"

"….not a clue."

Damnit.

Finally, they arrived to a shore where the ice was thick enough, and Iroh parked the canoe, edging his way onto the ice, testing it, before allowing Zuko to step out as well. Frowning, the boy shivered, annoyed by the cold, and brought out a bit of heat to warm himself.

"Be careful, Zuko. Test every step before putting your entire weight down, and above everything else, keep your eyes and ears open for _anything. _If you hear or see anything, tell me immediately, your senses are better than mine," Iroh said, and Zuko rolled his eyes (not true!), but obeyed with a nod. He knew that his uncle just wanted for him to have something to do, to hone _something_, at least, even if he didn't particularly need to. Swallowing, Zuko traced his eyes over the flawless ice walls, continuing to paddle. This place was creepy; he felt cramped and closed in, and he squirmed slightly, frowning.

There was a quiet scratching, and for a second, Zuko panicked, only to berate himself for it when he saw a batrat scaling the wall. Absently, he reached out to pat Huôshan's nose when she reached out to nudge his side, agitated.

It seemed like hours that they walked through those deserted halls, until Zuko felt a gentle shake.

"Uncle?"

"Yes?"

"Do you feel that?" he asked, glancing from side to side.

"No," Iroh answered, "You're probably just nervous. If you feel it again, tell me-"

_BOOM._

There was a great rumbling again, and Zuko gave a startled shout as thin sheets of ice on the ceiling began to rattle and break off, and a crack began to show in the spindly path they were walking on. The iceberg continued to shake, and Iroh and Zuko lost sight of each other with the falling ice. Huôshan shrieked wildly and took to the air after grabbing the prince with her teeth, before her wing was battered by a flying projectile and they began to fall.

The world went burst into flame, then went black.

---------

Zuko groaned.

All the lore he had heard was correct, death was cold.

Oh, wait.

That was the ground.

Damnit.

Wincing, Zuko tried to wiggle his fingers, with no avail. They, his whole arm in fact, was wrapped up tightly, and he could smell the coppery scent of blood. Now that he could feel and smell, time to see if he could hear, since he wasn't any closer to opening his eyes than when he had begun to regain consciousness.

If he focused, he could hear voices, and he was relieved to find that one of them was that of his uncle, who seemed to speaking to several others in low tones. He could hear Huôshan nickering at his face and nuzzling his cheek, and he could hear a fire crackling gently.

THERE!

Zuko finally got his undamaged arm to obey him, and raised it to shoo Huôshan away from accosting him (which had no effect) and rubbed his face, it was too cold for his liking. And why couldn't he access his firebending, anyway?

"Hey, he's moving!" A voice, a very young one, if Zuko's ears weren't going on him too, exclaimed, and a hand, smooth and feminine, pushed the prince back down from where he was attempting to rise.

"No, lay still," Yep, a girl. "You're hurt, you'll just damage yourself more if you move- hey!"

"My apologies, miss Katara, but my nephew is hard-headed and doesn't listen well. Stay down boy, before I make you." He would, too, Zuko knew, and calmed. The panic he hadn't known had been racing through him had calmed. A Firebender was nothing without his skills, he knew that much, and if his uncle was there, rough and demanding as he was, he knew that he was in good hands. "How are you feeling?"

"How do you think I feel?" Zuko snapped, golden eyes narrowing slightly, that girl returned to hovering over him. Too close.

"He's fine," Iroh declared, "Snarky, sarcastic, easily irritated, and irrational, check, check, check, and check." Zuko didn't have time to retort, for in seconds he had a worried phoenix-horse in his face (literally) and he gave in, reaching up and giving Huôshan a scratch on the cheek to assure her that he was alright. His vision was coming back into focus by then, and he could finally get a good look at the people surrounding him. Iroh, obviously, wearing some atrocious thing that looked to be made of camel rot; the girl, Katara, a Waterbender if he ever saw one; some bald kid who couldn't possibly have been older than twelve; and another boy not much younger than Zuko himself, looking related to Katara.

Joy.

"Uncle?"

"Mm?"

"Why can't I-?"

Iroh smiled at him, reassuring him.

"You overextended yourself, and you spent energy you didn't necessarily have available to protect yourself and Huôshan."

"Meaning?"

"You're suffering from burnout, literally."

Well damn. That just wasn't cool.

Zuko finally swatted all the hands away and succeeded in sitting, though his uncle (irritating as he was) continued to support him, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Who are they?"

Katara frowned and huffed slightly at him, whilst Iroh merely shook his head, used to Zuko's callousness.

"Have a little respect, nephew. If not for these people, you may have lost your arm."

Zuko flinched, that was the _stern_ voice.

"Anyway, this young lady on my right is named Katara, as you can probably tell, she is a Waterbender. Over there is her brother, Sokka, who is only a year younger than you. And _there_…." Iroh trailed off, looking uncomfortable. "Over there is Aang. He is twelve years old, and he….well….he's the Avatar."

Zuko blinked, once, twice, three times. He glanced to the small boy standing a ways away, raked his eyes over the blue arrows on his body. An Airbender. He opened his mouth to respond with an assured impossible, but couldn't. Airbenders were extinct, and so were those flying bison of the same variety as the one Huôshan was snorting at. The Avatar was gone, everyone in their right mind knew that.

But still---

"Uncle-?"

"Afraid so, my prince," Iroh answered the unasked question, "As good as we are in exile, that child is the Avatar."

"I won't believe it. I can't believe it," Zuko responded obstinately, staring at Aang, who flinched under his glare, "It is impossible. He is a child."

"But one-hundred-and-twelve years old."

"And how would you know, anyway? You weren't there, and when you were, you were unconscious! So quit being so closed-minded." Katara scolded, blue eyes flashing, and Zuko twitched. He never _had_ gotten along well with girls, the only ones he had ever known were friends of his sister, and he was beginning to realize that maybe it _wasn't_ just a Firebender thing. "Besides, if we can believe that _you_ are the exiled prince of the Fire Nation-" at this, Zuko shot Iroh an annoyed glare, "-then you should be able to believe that Aang is the Avatar."

Zuko could have said something in response to that, but didn't, settling for grabbing onto Huôshan's mane while her head was lowered and letting her pull him to his feet. She nickered and lipped his jacket, finding a rather squashed citrus fruit he had been saving and swiped it from him, chewing with gusto. Zuko scowled at her, he really HAD been saving that!

"I won't believe it until I see it," he decided to settle for that, and was unnerved when Katara smirked at him, and Iroh rolled his eyes.

"You'll see." She said, satisfied, and then, Aang spoke for only the second time in Zuko's memory.

"Would you like to come with us?"

"Kid, what are you-" the other sibling, Sokka, broke in, "Are you crazy?"

Aang smiled.

"They're exiles, not killers."

Iroh placed a hand over Zuko's mouth before he could snarl out a negatory, and inclined his head.

"Thank you for the offer. We'll take it."

As one, Sokka, Katara, and Zuko himself groaned aloud.

-----------------------

Zuko pulled Huôshan over to allow Appa to catch up; the bison was nice, but the fire prince didn't trust anything that heavy to actually fly. Iroh, on the other hand, much preferred the animal of the Air Nomads, and left the crazy driving to his nephew, who actually _enjoyed_ loop-de-loops. The mare snorted, giving her wings another mighty flap, and Zuko ran his fingers through her ebony mane.

It had been a tense few weeks, that was for damn sure.

For the record, he was STILL annoyed at Katara, not for being herself, but for being the one to actually CAUSE the ice quake to begin with, but that could just be because they were like oil and water, never destined to be mixed, unless one wanted to get mayonnaise. Actually, he could really blame Sokka for nearly killing him as well.

At the moment, they were flying south toward the mountains, aiming for the Air Temple to take the little kid home. Zuko wanted to inform him of exactly WHAT had happened to the Airbenders, but every time he tried, Katara butted in and cut him out. She couldn't protect the kid forever.

"Hey, get a move on over there!" the prince shouted, waving, "What are you, air turtles?"

"Shut up!" Katara shouted back at him, standing and making a rude gesture, "Have a little patience!"

"Says the maniac," Zuko murmured to Huôshan, who nickered in response. He shook his head and urged the mare back, "Hold on, we have to wait." He paused. "Can't leave uncle by himself, after all."

-----------------------

"Hey, wait you guys, I think we may have flown over it already." Sokka interjected, peering over Appa down below. All they could see were trees and buildings, big, beautiful, empty buildings. Excitedly, Aang commanded Appa to land in an open area, and immediately leapt off, scanning the vicinity, before frowning.

"But….where is everybody?" the boy questioned, eyeing the deserted streets, and Zuko stared at the ground.

His own people did this. Shivering, Zuko warmed himself, but it wasn't the snow that made him go cold.

Golden eyes glanced up, and he saw Iroh looking anywhere but at Aang, and both Katara and Sokka looking uncomfortable.

"Where are they?"

No one could answer.

"Zuko?"

Damn. Zuko scowled. Every time, every single time that kid couldn't get an answer from anyone else, it was always his job. Straightening, the prince shook his head and strode forward, towering over the Avatar. But of all the answers he had to give-!

"They're gone," he murmured quietly. "One hundred years ago, the Fire Nation attacked the Air Nomads, and completely wiped them out, knowing that the Avatar would be an Airbender. Somehow, you had been frozen, and they missed you."

Aang had gone white, and his blue eyes were wide, and he stared at the sixteen year-old, unbelieving.

"No. It can't be. I refuse to believe it! They must be in hiding-- they're still here!" Shaking his head, Aang broke away from the group and ran towards a large temple with a statue of a monk on it, flinging open the door and disappearing inside. The others were still, before Zuko took initiative and followed him, and froze.

The room was in a disarray, and silent and still as a stone, the Avatar stood in front of a body identical to the statue outside. His fists clenched sporadically, and Zuko could see them shake, whether it was from rage or sadness, he didn't know.

"Avatar, they are gone."

Silence. Solemn, Iroh came up behind his nephew, head bowed, allowing the prince to finish.

"This was far before my time, but as the only current representative of my people, I'm ashamed."

No response.

Despite his instincts that were screaming at him to back away, Zuko persisted, reaching out a hand and touching Aang's shoulder. Wrong move.

There was a sudden glow, and both Firebenders were thrown back against the wall, Iroh sliding down, while Zuko flew right through it. Despite the situation, Iroh slapped his hand to his forehead. His nephew would be like a p.o.'d bull after that one. Clenching his fists, Zuko dragged himself to his feet, trying to control himself, and not succeeding very well.

"You idiot, I'm going to KILL you!" Zuko snarled, only to be wrenched back by a strong hand grabbing his arm. Roughly, Iroh pulled him away, just as the walls began to rumble. Rocks from the ceiling began to crash down, and Zuko and Iroh knelt down to protect themselves. They could only just make out a blue blur dashing forward and pulling the distraught avatar into her arms. Aang began to sob, and Katara sank to the floor with him, arms wrapped tightly around his small frame.

Zuko couldn't help it, he had to look away.

-----------

-EDN CHAPTER-

I am so sorry, guys. I had writers block, and I needed to actually concentrate on school (freshman in college). So, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and I hope to get the next out much faster. -bows-


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